Bargain Hunting The Across Time Saga 2
by Hermie Nevi
Summary: Set in Egypt in an Alternate Past, young Pharoah Yami Yugi is accosted in the marketplace by a mysterious robed man. WARNING: Yaoi, a little violence


Bargain Hunting Tal and Thorn  
  
It felt wonderful to be out of the stuffy palace. Unaware for the moment of the duties of the Pharaoh, Yami Yugi walked briskly to his destination; the dice pits. He had a score to settle, albeit a friendly one, with Jono. Last time, they'd played long into the night with no decisive winner.  
  
In the market, he picked up his pace. Jono would wonder where he'd gotten to. His eyes fell on merchant wagons, laden with pastries and gleaming jewels and of course, Shadow Game paraphernalia. Simon had warned him numerous times about lingering in the marketplace. He said it was abound with thieves and liars. To which the Pharaoh had pointed out that he himself was one. Not a thief, but a liar. Disguised as a commoner, he moved in and out of these circles unnoticed.  
  
A gleam. No, more a dull shine captured his attention. Could it be... after all these years? The Pharaoh felt about ten years younger. Among a tray of junked toy pieces, was one of the last remaining missing pieces of the upside down pyramid puzzle Simon had challenged him to finish. He had to have it. He only hoped he had enough to bargain with.  
  
Not far behind Yami, a heavily robed figure stopped to watch him with interest barely concealed. Yami hardly noticed, he was so involved in his haggling. The figure edged closer, making only the slightest attempt to stay unnoticed. It wasn't long before the boy finished his haggling and tucked the treasure away. The man moved quickly, rudely jostling the young Pharaoh off the main street, into a dark alleyway.  
  
"I assure you, I have nothing of value to steal," Yami said calmly. He'd encountered thieves before. Once they saw how little a person actually had, the scattered for richer prey. And Yami had spent almost every coin to buy what appeared to be a worthless piece of junk. He was dressed simply, and not adorned with any of the baubles befitting his station. "Maybe after I have a few successes at the dice pits, you might have more luck my friend." He joked, showing the contents of his pockets; the puzzle piece, eight sets of dice and a half-eaten roll, which he offered pleasantly to the thief.  
  
The man seized his arm and pulled Yami farther into the alley. The crowd of the market was quickly disappearing as the man drug him around a gentle curve in the passage. His hand released Yami only long enough to take a firm hold on his hip, and spin the boy around to face the dead end wall of the alley.  
  
The roll, the dice, and the puzzle piece scattered to the ground. Prince of all Egypt for 15 years and recently made Pharaoh, Yami was afraid only in the sense a spoiled child who never considered the possibility of something horrible happening to him could be. That is, he feared the strangeness of the situation and doubted his ability to hold his own until someone came to his rescue. He tried to push himself away from the wall, and get turned around. He wanted to be eye to eye with this urchin when he told him who he was accosting. The Pharaoh wanted to see the fear in his eyes.  
  
Heavy hands held him firmly against the wall. The man leaned against his back, and slid one hand around to Yami's stomach. Quick, strong fingers worked their way under his shirt, caressing the soft skin beneath. A thick voice, heavily laced with an unfamiliar accent fell on Yami's ears. "My, but you are a pretty thing, aren't you?" The man's other hand grabbed Yami's ass bruisingly. "All tender young flesh and unmarked hide."  
  
He would have this man's tongue for saying such things and he said as much. "You will take your hands off me or it will be your death, thief. I am Prince Yami, your Pharaoh. My palace guards won't hesitate to cut you to ribbons!"  
  
The harsh laughter and harsh hands did not stop. If anything, he became more insistent. "I see no palace guards, boy." He grabbed Yami by the hips and pulled him back against his body, pressing his growing erection against the boy's backside. "It's just the two of us." He took hold of the laces of Yami's pants and slid a knife around, tracing the tip over Yami's hip.  
  
Yami tried to gain some leverage, maybe even get hold of the knife. But no, not unless he wanted a handful of blade. Yami was frantic now, not wanting this to last any longer than it had to. Simon had warned him. How could he be so stupid? And Seto... Well, he'd never want to touch him again if this man had him. Seto! He frequented the marketplace, looking for initiates. Maybe, just maybe he was out here. Or maybe Simon had followed him. He cried for all of them; his guards, Simon, Seto. Somebody had to be near, someone had to come for him.  
  
The knife, toying with the laces, found a tender spot on Yami's stomach. "Stop your screaming. No one cares about what happens to a peasant boy. Even a beautiful one like you."  
  
The man flicked his wrist, and the blade left a thin line, barely a scratch, on Yami's skin. Then he cut the laces on the Pharaoh's pants. Returning the knife to its sheath, he pulled Yami's breeches down, just past the curve of his ass. A finger, then two teased the hollow at the curve of his tight ass, then worked their way down between his molded cheeks to force him open.  
  
"To put you to death would be a kindness. I will see to it you are enslaved," Yami growled. "I am the Pharaoh, not a common street wretch like you." But he knew there was little he could do to stop this now. Scream his head off, bargain with his attacker, but not much else. Why hadn't he brought an escort? Because he had to prove how clever he was. Not so clever now. There had to be something he could do.  
  
"Hm-mm. Death. Pharaoh," the man laughed again as he pressed Yami tighter to the wall and freed his cock. "Whatever you say." He teased the flesh of Yami's ass with his cock. "Don't waste your breath, boy. Save it for the real screaming you're about to do.  
  
The laugh. Bone-chilling, yet familiar. As if that made any sense. "Please, don't. I'll do anything. Let me pleasure your by sucking your cock instead." And at first chance, sink that knife of yours into it, Yami hoped.  
  
"I'm not stupid, boy," he pushed his cock a little ways into Yami. "You'll suck my cock, but not until I'm done with your ass." A hard thrust, and Yami was completely filled with the man's cock.  
  
"No one can make you feel the way I can, my Pharaoh. For that reason alone, you will crave this. More than you thought you could. Much more than you want to."  
  
Those were his beloved Priest's words as he plunged into him, his violent unrelenting love opening him for the first time unapologetically.  
  
Only you Seto. Never anyone else.  
  
Until now. His body was lost. How could he be reacting like he was beneath his lover. Meeting the thrusts with hunger. Shame burned his skin as need burned through his cock.  
  
Cold laughter tickled the back of his neck, as the man's hand dug into his hip, fingers unrelenting, uncaring about the bruises he would leave on delicate skin. Thrusting mercilessly, he tore back Yami's shirt, baring a shoulder he then bit, nearly drawing blood. He shuddered, and filled the boy with hot cum. But he wasn't yet finished. Taking Yami by the shoulders, he threw him to the ground and fell upon him a moment later.  
  
Yami tried to crawl away the sand and dust scraping his hands. He didn't care. Maybe the irritation would distract his growing erection. But that laugh, that voice was not to be denied. "Please, no. You're hurting me. Stop, please... I... Oh!" he growled, fading to incoherence.  
  
The man pulled him fully to hands and knees by his hair. Not bothering to let go, he returned to his fucking. Hard, animal fucking. No tenderness at all. He didn't care if he hurt Yami. He actually seemed to enjoy the boy's pain more than his own pleasure. And the words. The cruel violent words he whispered.  
  
Yami could barely remain on his hands and knees. The voice seduced him to want this even as his muscles pulled and ached and his flesh bruised and swelled. And the shameful need to be driven fighting with the need to break free. "You'll never get away with this," he tried to threaten but the man had so strong a grip on his hair that he couldn't move his neck to get enough air to do more than grunt it out while trying to breathe.  
  
"I already have," the man gasped out, as he continued to ravage Yami's body. "No one cared to stop me, and no one will care to seek retribution. You're merely a hot ass and beautiful mouth I'll use to sate my desires and forget about."  
  
He drove into Yami harder, forcing him to the dirt on his stomach. Using powerful leg muscles, he pressed Yami's legs tightly together, fucking still harder and faster. He released Yami's hair and both hands dug into his shoulders.  
  
Yami could hardly breathe through the dust and dirt being kicked up. And he couldn't move, couldn't even try to buck or shift the man off him. He hardly felt human, simply a stealth for the man's cock. There was no point in fighting. "But I'm the Pharaoh," he coughed out even as his ass rose up to meet the man's force.  
  
The man didn't hear him, or didn't care if he did. The thrusting became completely feral, violence personified. Yami's attacker cried out, and locked his body around the pharaoh's as he climaxed.  
  
Mortified, Yami eagerly accepted what filled him. His throat caked in dirt and his voice harsh from screaming spoke words without any meaning or power. He was sobbing but he doubted his attacker cared, so why should he?  
  
Drawing long heavy robes around them both, the man's hands, violent and cruel moments before, gently soothed Yami's face. He settled his body comfortably over Yami's and rained soft kisses on the Pharaoh's bruised shoulders.  
  
The gentle attention was almost more frightening than the brutality. It indicated this man was likely insane and capable of anything. Was it over or had the pain only begun? So soft and kind. The tears were free flowing now. And again his thoughts turned to Seto. He meekly clawed the ground, but they both knew he wasn't going anywhere. "Fuck me," he coughed. "Kill me if you're going to, but don't pretend to give affections while a million terrors settle in my heart. Please be done with me."  
  
Laughter again. This time warmer, less cruel but still with an edge. "I doubt I'll ever be done with you, my Prince." No accent, no harsh uncaring cruelty. Just the biting sarcasm that defined his voice.  
  
"S... Seto?" Yami said as strong as he could in a voice marred with exquisite pain. "But why did you... why..." Yami tried to catch his breath and his disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me who you were and why the assault... I should have known. Your laugh enticed me the whole time, but I was just an edge away from understanding why." The lecture would come later, no not a lecture. More like a lesson. Of course, his beloved wretched Priest would probably laugh through it, but that is what gags were for.  
  
Seto chuckled softly as he rose, putting Yami's clothes to rights. As he lifted his lover in his arms, he shook his head. "Perhaps now, you'll listen to Simon's warnings, little prince, and not leave the palace dressed like a common slave." Even his gentlest tone carried an angry undertone. "Next time, it won't be me, and you won't escape with so few injuries." 


End file.
